


come alive in a dead world

by annieane



Category: Pacific Rim (2013), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:24:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2796236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annieane/pseuds/annieane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first ever Kaiju attack was in Beacon Hills, so really, it makes perfect sense that they finish it there. </p><p>Or the Scira Pacific Rim I wanted to read, but nobody wrote.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. mouth is made of metal

**Author's Note:**

> Because the perfect counterpoint to Christmas cheer is a story about giant robots fighting monsters.

Scott doesn't really think about it any more. (That's a lie. He thinks about it all the time.)

He doesn't want to remember the feeling as Liam was ripped out of the pod, devoured by the kaiju, a massive Category Three whose name Scott wanted to forget. (Another lie. _Knifehead._ He never wanted to forget, because if he didn't remember, who would?)

And most of all, he doesn't want to be in a Jaeger, never again. (A lie. He can't deny the feeling of power it brought him, the satisfaction that he'd helped.)

So it's a surprise when Derek Hale calls him up out of nowhere. They used to be friends, kind of, as close to friends Derek Hale could ever have.

"I need you," he had said, and Scott hadn't been able to say no (he's never been able to say no).

* * *

The rain covers the air like a ghostly blanket as he steps out. It's startlingly cold against his skin, and seeps down his shirt, soaking his hair to his scalp. He scans the surroundings. There's nothing. He squints a little harder, resisting the urge to shiver, until one shadow looms, shrouded in the downpour, like a veiled spirit. A smaller shadow hops next to him, and then proffers a stick to him. Scott takes it, half in a daze.

It's an umbrella.

He gratefully opens it as the two come into clearer focus (he can still barely see two feet in front of him). Derek Hale watches him, eyes narrowed into slits, assessing his every move. The Marshal badge glints off his pristine uniform. Scott's suddenly self conscious, only too aware that he hasn't trained properly these past few months, that he's out of shape, and that he's at least three inches shorter than him.

"Hey," he says, breaking the silence.

Derek's lips quirk up fleetingly.

"Hi," says the girl next to him. She's tiny, and looks like a little porcelain doll, but there's a slight confidence about her that screams that she's anything but fragile and delicate. She looks him straight in the eye, not looking away for even a second, until she flicks them up and down his body, just like Derek. She's assessing him.

"This is Kira Yukimura," Derek gestures towards her, reluctantly, as if that were a piece of information he grudges giving him, something that he wanted to keep to himself. "She's my protégée. One of our brightest. She'll give you a tour, and then escort you to your living quarters. I'll brief you once you're settled in."

Scott nods his head just as Kira blurts out a tangle of Japanese, like a spill of water; "He's different to what I expected."

"Different how?" Scott asks, his Japanese stilted and accented, every word forced. She blushes bright red.

"I thought you'd be taller," she smiles nervously at him, the corners of her mouth twisting. She looks down at her five foot two frame, and then giggles. He laughs, and her answering beam lights up the grey morning sky. He can see why Derek wouldn't want to tell anybody about her, she's like a lone candle in the gaping darkness of the world.

Derek grumbles beside them.

* * *

"This is Dr Martin and Dr-"

"Stiles!" Scott says incredulously. "You're-"

"Awesome? Working in research?" Stiles grins. "For the man? You know they wouldn't let me 10 feet near the control pod of a Jaeger, let alone let me pilot it." It's true, he still bounces with so much nervous energy that Scott can barely stand to be near him. His lab coat is covered in various suspicious stains, his goggles perched on top of his head like they're desperately trying to cling on.

"Honestly, Stiles," the woman next to him rolls her eyes, and flicks her hair back. Her heels click as she moves to stand in front of him, and she absolutely radiates disapproval. "Could you just calm down for a second?"

"No," he answers immediately.

"As I was saying," Derek growls, "This is Dr Martin and Stiles. They head our K-Science research team. Dr Martin specialises in Mathematics, and Stiles..."

"Specialises in assorted body parts," Dr Martin informs him archly. "Which he delights in leaving on my desk. On my papers. With blood spilling everywhere."

"Nobody cares about that," Stiles nearly knocks over a mug of steaming hot coffee with his flailing hands. Scott steps away as discreetly as possible. "Kaiju are the future! We need to understand them, which could happen if you just-"

"Not happening," Derek says. "Ever." The rapidity of his reply is slightly discomfiting, as if what Stiles was going to suggest were truly and deeply disturbing. Knowing Stiles, that wasn't really much of a surprise, considering that he used to relish gruesome crime scenes and mutilated bodies. He probably still did.

"Ha!" Dr Martin tosses her magnificent mane, yet again. She starts to clean up the lab with a sense of smug superiority. Scott likes her immediately. "I told you, didn't I? And you didn't listen. _Not everyone is as narrow minded as you, Lydia!_ "

"Shut up, Lyds!" Stiles yells, and then they start bickering again. Scott catches sight of tattoos creeping up her arm, tattoos of Kaiju and Jaegers, carefully shaded, every detail perfect, right down to the way the light shines off the metal, or to the way one Kaiju roars.

"Ah!" He calls out, voice bright. "Are you a Kaiju groupie too?"

" _No_ ," Lydia says savagely, all traces of triumph gone, and then yanks her sleeve down hard, smooths down her skirt, glares at him.

Later, Kira tells him each tattoo represents a fallen pilot and the Kaiju who'd killed them. Distantly, Scott wonders if Liam's on there.

* * *

Scott meets the other pilots next.

There's Boyd and Erica, husband and wife, one reserved and quiet (although it might have been Stiles annoying him endlessly) and the other loud and bubbly, fierce to prove herself... something. Erica's blonde and loud and gorgeous, so confident that Scott's pretty sure that before he ever piloted a Kaiju, he would have been intimidated by her. To tell the truth, he still kind of is, but she's so nice that soon Scott gets over it. She straightens Kira's collar and she smiles widely at Scott, and she becomes even more real, instead of some untouchable goddess, when she reveals she has to take drugs to stop epileptic fits, just like how Scott does for his asthma.

"They just finished clinical trials, so it's definitely nowhere close to going on the market," she tells him. "And super expensive as well. But nobody would complain about bias when it comes to pilots. We're rock stars, as the world is so fond of telling us."

Aiden and Ethan are twins, who give off the silent but deadly vibe. They don't try to talk to him, so he quickly bypasses them, going onto meet Jackson and Malia, who stubbornly insist that they are nothing alike. Of course, they are, more than anyone would like to admit, but they're ruthless when it comes to bashing Kaiju, all quick kicks and punches, second to only the Argents and honorary Argent Isaac, who are so close knit that they can Drift together in any combination, the deadliest team in the world (even if now, with the Jaegar program shutting down, it's first out of five, six if Scott finds a copilot).

He used to know Allison, so he smiles hesitantly at her. She holds his gaze, and then nods her head in a brief jerk before resuming her conversation with Chris. Then, she must feel a tiny bit ashamed, because she walks over to him.

“Hey,” she says, a fake smile plastered on her face. “I haven’t heard from you since Liam died. How’s things?”

“Okay,” he replies. “I worked on the coastal wall for bit.”

“That piece of shit?” Allison snorts. “That’s a waste of money. Money that should be used for _us_.”

“Yeah,” he looks down at his feet and doesn’t mention that the Jaeger fleet’s been practically wiped out, or that all the world leaders think that the entire program was pointless, not to mention this final secret mission.

The movement must shift the neck of his jumper, because Allison inhales sharply and takes a step back.

“Well,” she says quickly. “I’ll catch you later. And your scars are showing, by the way.”

He touches them dazedly, tracing the circuits burned into his skin, an encoded story of Liam’s death.

_“SHOOT IT SHOOT IT FIRE THE CANNON NOW-“_

He half stumbles.

Jackson glares at him, his lip curling in disgust. Malia looks him over, glances as Jackson, and then mirrors his expression (apparently, when Lydia was dating Jackson, they were the judgiest power couple to have ever existed. He can believe that). Scott can't help feeling bewildered and alone, so he turns to Kira for help.

"When am I meeting my copilot?" He asks.

"Soon," her eyes are downcast as she scribbles on her tablet. "I picked out the candidates for you myself. I hope they're a good match."

"I'm sure they will be," he replies. Maybe she can catch some of the tension in his voice, because she looks up, and her eyes are soft. She opens her mouth, and then bites her lip to stop herself from speaking. It turns them white, then cherry red when she lets go.  
"Do you," she fiddles with her tablet. "Maybe want to go see something? It should be good- I mean, I'm not sure whether you'll like it or not, but I think you will, but it's okay if you don't."

"Sure," he says, before she can say anything that might embarrass herself. "Okay. I want to go."

"Great," she says, and then bounces off to the main hangar, where all the Jaegers are kept, where he hasn't been allowed into yet. She slides her keycard onto the reader, and then flings open the bay doors with a little aborted “ _ta-dah!_ ” _._

The sight takes his breath away.

He's forgotten how huge they were, how they glinted in faint light, how they radiated power, silent and deadly and screaming loud all at once. He almost wants to run his hands down the smooth surface. A thousand colours glitter as he walks down the hall, their footsteps echoing, sounding like giants. The sharp tang of metal and salt stings his nostrils, wakes him up, reminds him he's still alive. Scott loves it.

Kira leads him up a set of stairs, and then around a corner.

"Oh," Scott breathes, and it's his Jaeger, Alpha Winter (a shitty name, to be completely honest, but Scott doesn't care), new and shining, as if it'd just stepped off the production line. "Oh."

"I organised the rebuilding myself," Kira says with a hint of pride. "I also added a few things, just to update it. But it's largely the same, including the nuclear core, although it does have better shielding now, so now it's almost as safe as the digital ones. Well, as safe as Jaegers can be."

"I never thought about radiation poisoning," he replies. "Thank you. For everything."

"It's fine," she's lost in thought. "Radiation is a problem, though. I'm surprised the shielding wasn't changed earlier."

"We never thought about it," the word 'we' is hard to say, like it's being tugged out of his throat, clawing at the tissue of his trachea with hooks. "And we were always too busy to wait for it to be upgraded. I guess... Anyway. Tell me your story. Were you adopted by Derek?"

"I guess," she looks startled by the question, or his eagerness to change the subject. "You could say that. It's not very interesting. Nothing happened. He just took me in and I help him and sometimes I do my own things myself and I guess I'm just company, ever since Laura and Cora- and I wasn't meant to tell anyone!"

The blush on her face causes her to glow like a sunset.

"What? Who?" He presses, swept up in a torrent of something that he can't quite understand. "I won't tell anybody. I swear."

"I've only just met you," she bumps his shoulder with his, and grins, her eyes tense. "How am I meant to know?"

"I swear," he insists, as gently as he can.

"Okay..." Kira bites her lip, and then looks around nervously. Her voice dies to a whisper. "So his mom and dad and the rest, except his uncle Peter and Laura and Cora, his sisters, died in the first attack in San Francisco. When the Jaeger program started, they all enrolled, but Peter moved to Germany, like, really inland. Cora's now in Washington. She's trying to appeal for more money before the program shuts down. We don't have enough money, and the wall's not going to work, either."

"And Laura?"

"Laura... Laura and Derek were Drift compatible. They piloted a Mark I. Lupus Gold, one of the first, I think, probably the third. Anyway, it had terrible shielding, if any, because it was nuclear, and because they were really good, I mean, Derek still is, but they were amazing, they spent a lot of time doing drops, and, Laura, she got lung cancer. She died about ten years back. Please don't tell anyone."

Scott nods, mute, and processes this. Kira squeezes his hand.

"Trials for your new pilot are tomorrow at six," she says. "You should go to bed early. Rest. I'll take you there."

* * *

His room looks exactly like the one he shared with Liam, but he supposes they all do. Kira stands just outside the doorway, watching him run his hand over the cheap plywood wardrobe, the radio, the bed with a metal frame. He inhales. It smells like exactly like his old room too, the same brand of disinfectant and a small hint of deodorant. He wonders if Kira's arranged that too. The scent of her perfume seems to tinge the air as well, and he doesn't know if that's because he's smelling her now, or if she's spent so much time here that the room's absorbed her. Every now and then, he stops to adjust something. There's no bunk bed. Scott refuses to think about what that means.

_"Scott!" Metal ripping-_

"Thank you," he says again, just to fill the silence. "For everything."

"It's fine," she says again, moves to say something else, and then thinks better of it, closing the door. "Um. Thank you for rejoining the program. Good night."

Good night. He can do this.


	2. the only place that i can breathe out

He's awoken first by the sunrise, filtering through his curtains, then by his alarm screeching, and then by knocking on the door. It's gentle, but also insistent and confident. A nice sound.

_Kira_ , he thinks gleefully, and then rolls out of bed and flings the door open.

It is, and she immediately spins around, red in the face.

"Cover yourself, Ranger McCall!" she barks, fanning herself with her tablet. Scott looks down. He's wearing boxers, which although inappropriate, isn't that bad.

"Understood," he says anyway, and quickly pulls on a tank and a hoodie and jogging bottoms. "So, where are we going?"

"A training room," she says briskly, and then breaks into a grin. "Good morning, by the way. How did you sleep?"

"Good," he replies. "Good. The room's bigger than what I'm used to. But that's good!"

"Good," her smile is soft. She's almost always smiling, like a permanent ray of sunshine, exactly what you wouldn't expect from the adopted daughter of Derek Hale. "Anyway. You'll be training with bo today. You know the rules, right? Different to Hong Kong rules. First to five, at least two points ahead. You get points by hitting them-"

"But not actually hitting them," he finishes off. "Yeah. I do. It's been a long time though."

"It’s okay. I get it," she pushes the door open to the training room, and then clears her throat. "If you'd like to get ready, Ranger McCall."

The crowd of would be pilots watch him expectantly, their faces made strangely green, full of shadows and angles by the harsh glare of the fluorescent light overhead, like corpses who’ve clawed themselves out of their graves. They don't feel right to Scott, none of them stand out, have that pull. He should be able to focus in on one face and think that that person was it, but, nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Whatever. He can’t afford to be picky, not when they’re trying to save the world. He shrugs off his hoodie. There's a collective muffled intake of breath from the crowd, and he glances down to see his circuitry burns. They spiral up his left elbow, over his tattoo, and curl around his shoulder, before retreating into a jagged stop halfway down his back, but of course, they can't see that. The burns don't show up that well on his tanned skin, but it seems to have shown up enough. He guesses that he should have expected that people react like this, to the constant reminder that a Kaiju tore through the hull, that his co pilot was torn out of the conn pod, that he brought a Jaeger to land on his own. It doesn’t mean it hurts any less. Kira, sitting in front of the only wall covered in gleaming mirrors, briefly flicks her eyes up from her tablet, which apparently is permanently attached to her, looks him over, smiles at him comfortingly, and then goes back to her tablet. She's now even brandishing a pen, scribbling notes down furiously.

The room stands as one as Derek walks in.

"Ranger McCall," he greets him. "Miss Yukimura, who's going first?"

She replies with cadet something. Scott can't really hear, just takes up the bo and rolls his shoulders.

"Have you warmed up, Ranger McCall?" Kira's voice snaps him out of his reverie.

"Um. No."

"I thought so. Warm up."

Scott awkwardly stretches as the entire room watches, Kira included. Finally, she nods, and he and his opponent both take up the defensive stance.

Time passes in a blur, a torrent of seconds, until all Scott's really aware of is the click of staffs, the whoosh of air, and a little huff every time he wins.

"What is it?" He demands, at last. Kira looks up. "Why do you keep making that noise?"

"I'm irritated," she says placidly. "You win, yes, but you do it half heartedly. You need someone who drives you harder. Pushes you to be a bit more ruthless."

Liam used to do that. Scott had always felt like the big brother, that he always had to look out for him in the Jaeger, fight to protect him. The thought makes his chest hurt.

"You fight with him, then!" Someone calls out. Kira raises an eyebrow, then slides off her blazer in one fluid motion. Although she's wearing heels, a white blouse and pencil skirt, she looks like she could easily wield a sword and slice someone to bits. Derek catches her shoulder, and they communicate silently for a brief moment.

"Get changed, Miss Yukimura," Derek orders her, but with no real conviction. "Quickly."

She comes back in a tank top and cycling shorts. Scott can't help but think that she looks good. Really good. She grins like a cat as she snatches up the bo, spins it deftly in her hand, all gleaming white teeth and quick movements. She crouches down like a feral cat too, or maybe a fox, sly and calculating, and Scott leans forward, every nerve tingling in anticipation.

"It's a dialogue, not a fight," he warns.

"It might not be a fight," Kira sings. "But it's a game I'm playing to win."

He's not sure what happens when, but every click of the staffs turns into a thunderclap, they use feet, elbows, hips, Kira rolls and ends up pressed up against him and the points climb up like ladders, _twenty one and twenty two, thirty three and thirty four_ , they both somersault over each other, _thud thud thud_ , goes his heart, one hundred miles a second, they're whirlwinds, locked in battle, Scott pins her to the ground, Kira takes the next point when she straddles his hips, legs bracketing his waist, and throws him onto the floor, _fifty, fifty one_.

"Ranger McCall, Miss Yukimura!" Derek commands, but Scott doesn't hear and sweeps Kira's feet out from under her, an easy move to dodge, but Kira's already stopped and doesn't notice. She shrieks and careens into him, knocking him over. He brings her down with him.

"Kira!" Derek bellows. "Stop- oh."

Kira lifts her head from Scott's chest, face scarlet. She tries to get up, but he's tangled his legs with hers and they end up thrashing about like beached whales for three seconds. She immediately stands, and Scott winces at the livid looking bruises on her shins. They're bright red in some places, but already purple in the middle, like blushing grapes.

"Well," Derek says in a strangled voice. "You're our new rangers. That was... Impressive."

"Oh!" Kira says in delight. "I'm usually such a klutz though. I don't know how any of that happened."

Scott knows. They pushed each other to be harder, faster, stronger. He's glad she'll be his co pilot, and not one of those cadets. Grinning like a fool, he accepts her outstretched hand and she easily hauls him up.

There's a slow clap from Allison as she leans against the doorframe and winks.

* * *

Scott invites her into his room on the way back.

"So, uh, Miss Yukimura..."

"Kira," she corrects him. "Call me Kira. I'm Kira. But you already knew that. I don't know why I told you that. Can I call you...?"

"Scott?"

"I knew that! I just didn't want to seem too forward..." She looks down at her tablet again, where her notes still are. He sneaks a peek.

Five-two. That was his first fight. Underlined are the words "must try harder", and a few lines below that, "relies heavily on intimidation tactics", and then in brackets "poor imitation tactics".

"I do not rely on-"

"Scare tactics?" She asks. Her eyes are bright, are always bright. "You do. You even growl."

"Do not!" He protests.

"Do," she giggles. "They aren't very scary, either. I'm surprised nobody laughed."

He stops the little playful growl in his throat before she can tease him any further. She glances around the room, still smiling, until her eyes fall on a framed picture of Scott and Liam together. She exhales in a gentle little puff.

"Yeah," Scott says, trying not to think about it too much. "That's my old co-pilot. Liam."

"I read about him," she mumbles slowly. "In your file. You don't have to talk about it, not if you don't want to. It's okay if you don't. Or if you do, I'm always here. To listen."

"I get it. Thanks."

"I don't want you to think that I'm trying to replace him," she blurts out earnestly. "I don't. And I'm not."

Her hands lie perfectly folded on her land, neat, still. He reaches out and gently takes her right one, stroking it slightly. He desperately wants to say that he knows, that he's grateful, but he can't get it out properly, not even his mind can form the right words. It's a feeling that he can't quite express. He hopes she sees it in the Drift, but for now, handholding is going to have to do.

They talk about inane things for a while. She reveals that she's technically still a cadet in the Jaeger academy, but everyone treats her as a graduate, which is why she's Miss Yukimura, not Cadet Yukimura. She accidentally ended up involved in everything, from restoring Jaegers to managing the catering. Her favourite ice cream flavour is cookies and cream, because she has a sweet tooth. She likes history, comics, and photography. Once, when Jackson challenged her to a duel, she ended up breaking his arm by accident. She has no idea how it happens, but whenever Jackson's being an ass to her, she always references that and he shuts up pretty quickly. When she was younger, she used to love fries dipped in soft whip ice cream, and she'd have nighttime parties with Braeden, the other Marshal, eating it.

Scott stores it all away for future reference, as he tells her that he's never been outside the continent of North America, his mother is a nurse, after the Jaeger thing he worked on the coastal wall in San Francisco, where he learnt how to make pretty great fortune cookies, and then in Alaska. He used to play lacrosse, and was pretty great at it too. When he was eight, he dressed up as Spider-Man and jumped off the roof, loudly encouraged by Stiles, shouting, "my spidey senses are tingling!"!  
Kira's laughing at that when there's a sharp knock on the door.

"Scott!" Allison pushes it open. "Have you seen Kir- oh. Hi. Derek wants you. In the labs."

"Okay," she stands up quickly, and then wobbles slightly before regaining her balance and brushing off her skirt. "Um. Do you want to come with me, Scott?"

He nods fervently, and tails her like a lost duckling, Allison staring at them from the entrance to his room.

* * *

Stiles is sitting on a chair, face pale and wan, blood dripping from his nose onto his shirt. A glass of water is loosely grasped in his trembling hands. He makes no move to drink it.

"Did Lydia finally snap?" Kira asks in a hushed tone, almost filled with awe. "Did she punch you?"

"I most certainly did not!" Lydia says haughtily. "Although I did consider it, you know. I can't believe his stupidity!"  
"Stop bickering, children," Kira orders. With her hair tied up in a ponytail, perched on the desk, swinging her feet, she looks about fifteen, so the withering looks Lydia sends her might be entirely justified.

"What happened?" Scott demands, bewildered.

"He drifted!" Lydia says furiously, pointing an accusing finger at Stiles. "He drifted with a Kaiju, that complete idiot!"

"Tell them what you learnt," Derek commands, sitting on the desk. Stiles snaps out of his reverie.

"Well... Kaiju are clones. These ones- they're scouting out the planet, trying to see if it's habitable-"

"Tell them the important bit," Derek orders.

"Ah. They're colonisers, they take over and devour the whole planet, eliminating all other life forms, then destroy it!" His hands gesticulate wildly. Lydia catches hold of them and claps them together.

"Those are two entirely different things," she tells him sternly. "What Stiles is trying to say is that these Kaiju want to kill us all. These ones are just the scouts, checking out the threats. And if my calculations are correct, which they are, then we'll be facing a double event, and then a triple. So, bad news for humanity."

"And every other life form," Stiles adds. "But of course, it's all about the humans for you, isn't it?"

"Be quiet," Derek says, and the entire room falls silent. "Stiles. I want you to do it again."

"I'll need a brain- probably a fresh brain, not this decaying rot-"

"I don't care. Get what you need. Go ask Deaton. He'll know where you'll have to go. Dr Martin, I want you to get on your equations again. I want exact times, and sizes, speeds and weight."

Lydia nods, completely calm once again, and then turns back to her computers, complex algorithms already running races across the screens.

"Kira. Scott." He turns to them. "Your training run is going to be moved up to today. 1300, if we can manage it. Get ready."

* * *

Kira looks awkward, but still breathtaking in her suit. Scott sympathises, they're a lot more rigid that you'd expect, and it chafes like hell. He regrets not giving her protective gear, or body lotion, or even just not warning her. She fumbles a tiny bit with the wires, but still clicks them into place with surprising speed and competence, her fingers deft even when encased in hard gloves.

"Is it alright if I take this side?" Scott asks. "My arm..."

"Oh. Okay," she says. "Sure." She slips into the place beside him, and locks in her feet before sticking her helmet on. Scott follows her, and grimaces. He'd forgotten how badly they stank, like warm metal and gel.

"Don't chase the RABIT," he wants to say, or impart some other piece of worldly wisdom, but he's got nothing, nothing to say that Kira probably doesn't already know, and downloaded onto her tablet (he'd seen, with some amusement, but mostly fondness, that she'd taken her tablet with her until climbing into the conn pod, where she handed it over to Danny with obvious reluctance), so instead he says nothing.

"Are you ready, Alpha?" Derek asks, his voice resounding around the pod.

"Ready," Scott says.

"Initiating neural handshake," Danny says, and then Scott sees a series of flashing images, Scott and Stiles building sandcastles together, a history book for children, Scott's mom and dad arguing, a little girl in a red coat, Allison, Derek, Kira in a red coat, a sword in her hand-

"Right hemisphere calibrated," then a jolt, "left hemisphere calibrated."

Scott clenches a fist, and can hear the whirring of the mechs as Alpha copies him.

"Oh," Kira breathes, as then they move as one, slapping fist against palm, lifting one leg, then the other, and then uncricking their neck in a slow rotation. He can feel the power thrumming through him, nuclear energy and adrenaline and he feels alive again, complete, whole, as if he'd never realised that part of him was missing, but then also that faint sting as a jolt of pain arcs up his arm-

_"Scott!"_ A terrified voice, but it can't be, he's dead he's dead _he's dead_

And then darkness.

Kira, he thinks distantly.

The little girl in the red coat, running through the street, wailing, a Kaiju chasing after her, Tokyo burns around her, she claps her hands over her ears, screams more, never stops running, glass litters the floor, her heart beat thudding out a panicked stutter, _da dum, da dum_ , then a silhouette of a Jaeger, don't stop running don't ever stop, and then shrieking from the Kaiju, and then Derek, and then a metallic tang in his mouth, blood, not his blood-

And he comes back into the present.

"Stabilizing," Danny says. "Recalibrating... Calibrated."

"You bit your cheek," Scott says, uselessly. Way to go, Scott. Such observational genius.

"Pain helps me concentrate," she grits out, then gasps, sighing in relief. Her face looks drawn, like a thin piece of skin has been stretched too tight on the frame of her bones. "Let's not talk about this where everyone can hear, okay?"

They stretch out their arms, then shake it out, rinse and repeat. He's so used to Kira now, it's like she's part of him, fluidly melting into his mind, and only the flicker of movement in his peripheral vision reminds him she's there. They even breathe as one, chests rising and falling in sync.

"Good work, Alpha," Danny says over the radio. "Powering down now."

He unclicks his helmet and grins at her.

"Pretty good, huh?" He beams.

"If you count almost falling into a memory good," she says wryly, "Then that was fantastic. But at least it was an almost, right?" He stares at her for a long time, so long that at last she asks, "what?"

"You got yourself out," he says simply. "Out of the memory. It was good. You're good."

"Nooo," she draws it out, rolls it around her mouth, tasting the word on her tongue. "If I were good, I wouldn't have chased the RABIT in the first place. I was just trying to stop messing up."

"Well, you stopped messing up. Which was good."

She gives him an assessing look, just like Derek, and it's like she's scrutinising his soul. Scott's never felt quite so transparent, as if he were made out of glass, clear and smooth, or an open book, pages open, ready for her to read. He wonders what she's seeing. Then, she finally nods.

"Do you want to go grab lunch?" Her voice is hesitant, but his smile is anything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Four Walls" by Broods


	3. cut like diamonds (we were made to last)

It's steak and potatoes, again.

Scott knows why. Piloting a Jaeger takes a huge amount of work, and energy, and pilots have to constantly eat to maintain their body mass. He just always feels like such a pig when he's chomping through a veritable mountain of carbohydrates and the technicians are eating a sandwich and a piece of fruit. That being said, he's starving.

He plonks two steaks onto his tray, then three servings of roast potatoes, and then adds pesto pasta salad for good measure. Assorted vegetables, because he's got to at least appear healthy, and then two desserts and a packet of tortilla chips. The tray can't really hold anymore, so Scott calls it a day and sits down.

Kira slides into the seat next to him, with four paninis stacked neatly on top of each other in their grease paper wrappers, and a tangerine. She unwraps one and takes a bite.

"Um. I think. That's not going to be enough," he says. "Pilots usually eat... A lot more."

"I usually only eat one!" She cries, indignant. "Besides, small frame. And if I really want, I'll go up for seconds. Or order pizza. God, I'm craving pizza."

She takes another delicate bite as Scott inhales the steak, and as Isaac, Allison and Malia sit down next to them.

"That isn't enough," Malia says bluntly. She gestures to her own meal, with five steaks on her plate.

"Small frame," Kira says again.

"Still isn't enough."

"Stop it," Allison says lightly. "Well done on the trial run today, by the way."

"They slipped out, though," Malia's voice is perfectly innocent. The table falls silent. "What? Jackson said so."

"Jackson," Allison sings. "Says far, far too much."

"You dated him," Malia blinks. "And Scott. And Lydia dated Jackson too. I saw it in the Drift. And you said that you liked-"

"Let's not!" Kira half-shouts. Scott is eternally grateful. He doesn't want to hear about the Jackson-Allison-Lydia-Stiles-Scott-Isaac love mess ever again. She finishes her second sandwich hurriedly, and then peels her tangerine.

Isaac takes a segment, absent-minded. Kira makes no move to stop him, even passes him a napkin. When he gets some juice onto his stupid scarf (what a stupid, big scarf), Kira rolls her eyes and dabs at it for him. Scott feels the bright hot flare of jealousy, even though he has no right to- they're not dating, after all.

_But you're co-pilots_ , a little voice whispers inside of him. He tells it to shut up, squashing down the acidic burn of dreading something. He stands up abruptly. Kira moves to follow him.

"I'd rather be alone," he snaps, and then regrets his tone as she sinks back down, hurt etched deep on her face. "If that's okay. I just need to collect my thoughts."

"Are you sure?" She inquires, her brows furrowed together. He knows. Pilots are usually inseparable, and nobody can help you more than someone who's been in your head.

"Sure. I'll find you later," he ducks his head and strides quickly out of the dining room.

He doesn't go find her later.

* * *

He falls asleep angry with himself, and wakes up spooning a soft warm body, legs curled around each other. He discreetly adjusts himself so that his daily morning arrival doesn't make them uncomfortable, and then lies completely still as the body stretches, and murmurs sleepily.

"Scott?" The body asks. Oh. Kira. Guilt floods through him.

"Good morning," he says. "Uh. Am I in your bed, or are you in mine?"

"Oh God," she sits up quickly, sleep still blurring her eyes. "I forgot. You, um, had a panic attack, so I came in, and then I stroked your hair and you asked me to stay."

"Okay," he says simply. "What time was that?"

"Two?" Her face screws up. She looks adorable. "I mean, 0200."

"And now it's," he glances at the clock. "Four thirty. 0430! So still an hour to go before we have to get up."

"Okay," she swings her legs out of bed.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

"To my room," she stutters. "I thought... I thought-"

"Stay," he pats the bed beside him, rolling onto his side. "Please." She hesitantly gets back in, and he can feel how cold she is from just that brief exposure to the air. He pulls her in a little closer, and rubs the goosebumps from her skin. She sighs, melts, leans in, and soon their limbs are tangled once again, slotting in together as if they were made specifically to cuddle with each other. Scott can feel the rise and fall of her chest with each steady breath, the even thump of her heart. She traces the burn marks on his arm idly, and they no longer feel like ghosts or echoes, but a golden cobweb spread upon his skin, molten, beautiful. Every touch feels like a song. They've never really been heavy, but now he feels lighter, like she doesn't see it as an ugly scar, but... He isn't sure, doesn't want to say too much, just in case she doesn't feel that way.

"Do you wanna talk about today?" He mumbles sleepily, because it's warm and soft and dark here, a place to spill secrets like glittering gold poured from a pot at the end of a rainbow.

"No," she whispers, and her voice is thick with fast approaching sleep too."S'okay." He nods, and they drift off together.

* * *

When they wake up, the room has turned golden, the sunlight creeping in. They both have morning breath, and Kira's hair is smushed around her face on one side, but it's perfect. Kira bolts upright, tucks in her knees, glancing at him. There's a small pink scar on her right shoulder, faint, like a spiderweb of blood vessels or lightning bolts.

"I should probably brush my teeth," she says, and then gets up to go.

"Wait," he says. Her hand pauses at the knob. "Before you go... Are you and Isaac?"

"What?" She asks, confused, before realisation dawns on her face, and she flushes bright red. "Oh. No. Nothing, other than um, standard Shatterdome things. Kissing. And stuff. But it was everyone."

"Really?" It's usual that people in the same Shatterdome get close, and experiment, especially the cadets, and this is an especially young Dome. That means it's standard, although unofficial, practice to give a list of things that might be discomfiting to see while in the Drift. Including sexual history.

"Isaac, Jackson, Lydia, Cora, Stiles, Malia, Allison. But I never, you know. Did it."

"Oh. Okay. I did. With Allison, Isaac and Stiles. So if you see that in the Drift... I guess, be prepared."

"I've seen them naked before. Ugh, I've seen everyone naked before. It's no big deal. I mean. It was for my job. Not... not like that. And you've already seen the Kaiju. Derek hugs me sometimes. Some people find that weird. I don't know why. If I think of anything to tell you... I'll tell you later," she says, and then leaves, practically vaulting out of the door, half mortified.

Scott stares up in the ceiling, grinning gleefully. Kira and Isaac aren't a thing! They aren't dating!

* * *

"My model's right," Lydia says firmly. "I know it is. It's happening today."

"I still need to drift with a goddamn Kaiju, so let's not argue about whether your model is right or not," Stiles sighs, and then takes in Lydia, standing there with lips firmly pressed together. "And it obviously is. We just have to find about the Kaiju's habits!" To emphasise his point, the piece of Kaiju organ squelches.

"It's a stupid idea," Scott agrees. "But it might just work."

"Might just work?" Stiles scoffs. "When have my plans ever not worked? Don't answer that. Keep me in a state of blissful ignorance."

Lydia rolls her eyes (she seems to do that a lot), snaps on latex gloves, and then peels off the duct tape neatly dividing the lab into two, tossing it into the bin. With a new roll, she remakes the border. Then the gloves go into a bright yellow bin marked "Biohazard", a post it note labelling it- "contents that have touched Stiles' lab".

" _Again?_ " Stiles demands. "Come on Lyds, you changed it yesterday!"

"It had guts on it," Lydia hisses. "Your side is a complete and utter mess." Scott thinks this is an unfair complaint. Sure, there are splatters of blood on the floor, and string everywhere, but everything is organised in a Stiles way- chaos to anyone else, perfect sense to Stiles.

Then again, he can kind of tell that Lydia likes everything to be perfect, even if just to mask the actual undercurrent of worry running through the lab today. Scott's kind of worried too. If it isn't a double event today, then it means they'll have no way of predicting anything any more, except the K-Watch, which is a dangerous job as it is, even with possible theoretical warnings.

"Did you find a Kaiju brain?" Scott asks, trying to relieve the tension in the air (some of it's sexual, but he'd rather not go into that right now).

"No," Stiles and Lydia say at the same time. Stiles mimics zipping his lips shut, and then carries on anyway. "We need a Kaiju. But there's going to be a double event today. Keep that brain fresh, Scotty! I'm going to plunge my equipment into that sweet quivering mass-"

"Gross," he says, recoiling in disgust.

"Scott?" Kira sticks her head through the doorway, and then relaxes, tapping an erratic rhythm on her knee with her tablet. "It's okay, he's in here." She comes in, followed by Derek, Danny, and the rest of the pilots, Allison, Isaac, Chris, Victoria, Jackson, Malia, Aiden, Ethan, Boyd and Erica. Isaac winks at him, Jackson glares.

"We have a plan for closing the Breach," Derek starts. "It's going to need all of us. We're going to dump at least twenty tonnes of nuclear explosive in there."

"Who's carrying it?" Lydia asks sharply.

"The load's spread out," Danny replies. "Coyote and Hunter are carrying half each. Alpha, Archer, Gemini, Silence, you're all flanking them. It's going to be the day of the triple event."

"That's in three days," Jackson argues. "Alpha only started practice yesterday. There's no way they're going to be ready. I don't trust them to watch my back."

"Then today's double will be good practice for them," Derek says flatly. "Gemini and Silence, you're out. Archer, and I don't care who's piloting, show Alpha the ropes in the Miracle Mile. You will not engage under any circumstance."

"We've got this," Aiden high fives Ethan. Erica dances a little.

"Dibs," Allison and Isaac call simultaneously. Chris and Victoria don't look pleased.

"We'll be piloting Hunter on the final mission," Victoria says. Nobody argues. "Eat up, kids."

* * *

The atmosphere is subdued in the canteen, and soon only Allison and Scott are left there, everybody else making their excuses.

"Is it weird if you sleep with your co pilot?" Allison twirls a forkful of spaghetti around her fork, the tomato sauce already a little congealed. She watches Scott choke and snort out orange juice from his nose with an amused expression on her face.

"What?" Scott wheezes at last.  
"Relax, Scotty boy," she laughs. "I was talking about me and Isaac. Although judging by your reaction, I seem to have struck a nerve."

"Kira and me," he splutters, orange juice still dripping down his chin, "we aren't, I wouldn't-"

"I would," she interrupts, her voice low and suggestive. Scott desperately tries to think of unattractive things, like Kaiju corpses and his old ninth grade History teacher naked. "And I think you should. She's good for you." She seems unconcerned that today two Kaiju will crawl out from the Breach. Scott used to be like that too, see it as a game, a fun challenge, bound out of bed like a puppy.

"Whatever," he shrugs.

* * *

He sits with Kira on the bench outside Alpha, already in their flight suits. Everyone is mumbling that maybe Dr Martin got it wrong, that maybe today isn't a double event, or even any event, after all. Lydia herself is checking her calculations half hysterically, her facade of calm broken down two hours ago, as the sun dipped below the horizon, setting fire to the water and the sky all at once. Sitting outside Silence Bolt, affectionately nicknamed 'Sex Bomb', Erica tugs on her leather jacket and glares at the clock, tapping her foot impatiently. Boyd catches her wrist, saying something quietly. Allison is passionately making out with Isaac, and he can't quite see Ethan or Aiden. He wishes he couldn't see Allison or Isaac too. They look like they're eating each other. Kira sneaks a peek, and then looks away, a grimace on her face.

"I'm right!" Lydia screeches, and then moments later, she strides through the corridor, her heels clacking loudly on the floor.

"Lyds!" Stiles shouts, chasing after her. "Come on, I didn't mean it like-"

He's interrupted by the blaring of the alarm.

"Double," Danny confirms, his face grim. Lydia runs back to the lab, her face slightly smug. The entire Dome comes to life, their team running out of massive bay doors with gleaming machines as they hurry to strap Scott and Kira in. They're quick and efficient, and soon his helmet's filled with that soupy yellow gel. He grins at her.

"Ready?" He asks, as they start to initiate the neural bridge.

"Born ready!" She yells back, and then they're plunged into the cool blue of the Drift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "1965" by Zella Day


	4. dig that grave (and watch that motherfucker burn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realise how short this one was (but this is the penultimate chapter yay!).

"Alpha, you good?" Danny asks from the LOCCENT.

"Yeah, we're good," Scott replies.

"We're good too," Erica says. "Thanks for asking."

"I was asking in a particular order!"

"Oh, sure!"

"Don't talk to my boyfriend like that!" Ethan protests from inside Gemini.

"You kids," Chris orders calmly. "Be quiet." Everyone is deathly silent, except for the whir of the chopper blades which are carrying the Jaegers to the sea.

"Now," Danny clears his throat. "Since we've now ascertained that Alpha and Silence are both alright, and presumably Gemini, how are you, Archer?"

"Great," Allison says. "We'd like a briefing on the Kaijus though."

"They're both Category Fours," Danny replies. "Code name Otachi and Leatherback. They're pretty huge- Leatherback's the biggest one yet- and we think that Otachi has a tail... At least, that's what K-Science is saying."

Scott almost forgets who K-Science is, and then remembers it's Stiles and Lydia. It's always been Stiles-and-Lydia to Kira, he can tell from the Drift, as if they're an inseparable living organism. He briefly thinks about when it used to be Scott-and-Stiles, when they were younger, and immediately clears his mind. He can't afford to slip up.

"Requesting to be connected with K-Science," Erica says. "I want more information on these things. Huge and with a tail isn't going to do."

"Request denied," Danny replies. "They're out, looking for Deaton. And yes, I know you want to flirt with them. Tough luck."

"Archer, Alpha, remember, stay inside the Miracle Mile," Derek warns. "Leave this to Silence and Gemini."

"Copy," Kira says, although her voice sounds sullen. Scott gets a flash of overwhelming exclusion, and a tiny Kira pouting on the sidelines.

"Copy," Isaac replies, and he sounds even more grudging. "Staying in the Miracle Mile."

They're set down with a large plunk, and Gemini and Silence begin to wade out into the depths. The water ripples around them, leaving it gently frothing in their wake. The sea looks deceptively calm, and the atmosphere is tense. Scott feels his heart hammering against his chest. He takes deep breaths. _One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eigh-_

The two Kaiju burst out of the water- huge, scaly- Aiden whoops with joy and Gemini begins punching one- Otachi?- violently and its yellow eyes glow like lamps with hate and Silence, half happy, half bored, is firing all their cannons at the other one as one arm is hooked around its neck and that's when it all goes wrong-

Otachi thrashes wildly and its tail smashes into Gemini's conn pod, and as quick as that, the entire Jaeger's been crushed and Aiden and Ethan are probably dead and then Leatherback and Otachi are both on Silence at once and- and Erica is screaming filthy profanities but they keep on fighting, even though their left arm's probably taken out and Allison is screaming for _permission to leave the mile, **sir**_ and then Derek shouts _yes_ right back, but on no accounts can Alpha, but they've already engaged long before and then Archer is sprinting towards Silence, but it's already too late because there's a boooom _riiiiiiiiip_ as Silence blasts Leatherback into two and as Otachi punctures a hole in the conn pod and reinforced metal tears like wet tissue paper and it sprays acid everywhere and then forces Silence down and then Boyd says, oddly calmly-

"The pod's filling with water. There's a fuel leak."

And then Erica gasps hysterically, and they can hear the most awful gurgles-

"Our funeral better be fucking _amazing_ ," and then she flicks off the radio so they don't have to hear them die. At last, an eternity later, there's an explosion deep underwater, and Sex Bomb lives up to half of its name.

Archer's knocked off their feet, waves of water crashing violently against them. Alpha moves to help them too, but then Derek barks in their ear on no account are they to engage (too late for that), but then there's a pulse and Archer stops working.

"Electromagnetic pulse," Kira says next to him. "I think. All the radios have been cut off. And all the lights. Beacon Hills has gone dark."

"And we're still working," he says. "Because we're analogue."

"I guess we're on our own," she sighs. They turn together, and then make _uh oh_ noises at the same time. Otachi, with the stupid tail, is raging through the harbour, leaving a blaze of destruction in its wake. They don't even pause.

* * *

Fighting's never been the important part for Scott, only the defence of innocents, as cliché as that might sound. He senses that it's the same for Kira, but she also relishes the fight a little more, even though she still hope with all her heart that showing off a bit will intimidate the Kaiju enough to run away.

Piloting with her is brand new and familiar all at the same time, like slipping into an old dream, quiet and peaceful, (the Drift is silence) except for the steady clunk of the Kaiju's footsteps (and theirs too). Leatherback was ugly and huge, brutish, but Otachi's fast and clever, and images of the tail flash repeatedly in Kira's mind, a plan that he hasn't quite worked out yet, but in a way, already has.

Then the quiet is just images, and soon they're grappling with Otachi and Scott is shouting that they have to vent the coolant, lights flicker back on in Beacon Hills, and then they're venting coolant and freezing its goddamned tail, the same fucking tail that killed Aiden and Ethan and Erica and Boyd, and shattering it using the whole clip of ammo that's tucked neatly inside the crease of their right elbow, glass glittering in a fine spray through the air, _hot white blue_ , then it's got wings and fuck, it's cold, and then the sliding out of a sword and then they're falling right back to earth, curling up in a tight little ball, and they crash land, but they're alive, so that's something-! They high five, exhausted, but they're alive, and Beacon Hills is safe for now.

But.

In the space between two blinks, Scott and Kira share their life stories, one of two boys, twenty two and twenty, fresh out of the academy and full of hope, head hunted to pilot a Jaeger ( _so young_ , the recruiter purrs, _so talented_ ), technically a Mark I, but it's all been upgraded so it might as well be a Mark II. They name it Alpha Winter, and get matching flight jackets. The older boy puts his books ( ** _Applying for Vet Med!_** screams the spine of one) into storage, the lock of the box snapping shut with an echoing click. The memory seems to hitch on that particular moment, again and again. The story shifts, to a little girl playing with plastic swords, then to a city of shattered glass ( _it would have been beautiful if corpses didn’t litter the streets like chewed up gum_ ), then of a life of perpetual waiting, full of the need to help ( _you won't understand yet, you're too young_ ). There's scribbles and research, hours spent taking photos and then tiny little Jaegers made out of scraps, until finally the girl, all grown up (the light frames her like a halo, she's a triumphant angel), climbs out of a Jaeger, technically a Mark I, and then restored again and again so it might as well be a Mark V, and then, in that Jaeger, their stories meet and intertwine.   
In the space between two blinks, there's nothing but silence and the Drift, and then the neural bridge breaks and the screams of Beacon Hills ring out again like wedding bells.

They're gently set down in the main hangar of the Dome, and finally unfasten the last of the harnesses and wires, their helmets removed long before. They sit in the quiet and look at each other for what feels like forever, simply understanding, before they climb out.

Kira trips over the ledge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Comeback" by Ella Eyre


	5. watched you drown from far away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S FINISHED IT'S FINISHED. Also waiting to update things is overrated (and I'm out all next week).

Allison's close to tears when they get back, because Isaac was severely burned when the electricity went out, and he won't wake up and she hates crying, so instead she goes on a rampage, smashing plates and hurling abuse at the medical officers. Finally, Jackson has to rugby tackle her to the floor so the nurse can sedate her. As she falls unconscious, cursing them all, the word "useless" adorned with a string of French profanities like glass beads, she manages to upturn a table with scalpels, needles, and assorted drugs.

Malia broke her leg while she was ushering Stiles and Lydia to safe zones, sliding down a flight of stairs and landing awkwardly. Jackson rages about that too, because he has no co-pilot and what are they going to do? Malia rages right back, and even though she's stuck in a hospital bed with her leg hoisted up in the air, she looks utterly terrifying.

“At least I wasn’t being absolutely fucking _useless_!” She screams at him, and the doctors are forced to kick Jackson out, because Malia’s heart rate is too high. She vehemently continues her verbal onslaught even as he walks out of the door, so vicious that Scott cringes just hearing it.

Now they have no idea where Stiles and Lydia is now, and they're pretty sure that Otachi was after them because the Kaiju knew that Stiles had been an idiot and Drifted with one of them. The trip to the Breach is in less than fifteen hours, so Scott and Kira better have a nap, alright?

They don't bother arguing, peeling off their clothes and taking a long hot shower. Scott knocks on Kira's door when he's sure she's done, and then they nap together for a grand total of eight blessed silent hours as the mechanics and engineers run themselves ragged making last minute repairs and adjustments, and the world falls to pieces around them.

There's no time to grieve, or to celebrate, or even to panic. They wake up calmly and dress quickly, then go to the canteen and begin to shovel piles of food onto their plates. Kira bypasses the paninis entirely, and instead slaps high protein steaks onto her tray with a savage determination, undeterred by the looks of surprise the catering staff give her. Scott knows that she cried in the night, as silently as she could, leaving no traces of it at all, no tear stains, no puffy eyes, no red nose. He kind of admires her resilience.

Kira visits Derek afterwards, helping him to strategise and plan. Maybe she's saying her goodbyes, too. Scott doesn't want to intrude.

He goes to K-Science, but Stiles and Lydia still aren't there, along with most of Stiles' Drift apparatus. His whiteboard's still there, though, the massive one with newspaper clippings about the Kaiju and the Jaegers on one side, and then an incomprehensible string of figures and words on the other. In comparison, all of Lydia's notes are clearly laid out, backed up on dozens of hard drives and in cabinets stuffed full of physical copies.

He wishes that he got to talk to everybody while he was here, especially Erica and Boyd, and Aiden and Ethan, but of course, now he'll never be able to. Instead of dwelling on it though, he starts reading about the Kaiju.

The first one made land in Beacon Hills, and killed thousands before it was taken down, costing half the Air Force and most of the army. " _A sleepy town_ ", the article claims, " _changed forever_ ". The skull's in some museum somewhere, and it's never occurred to Scott to go see it. He probably should. He vows to, if- _when_ \- they close the Breach, that'll be one of the first things he'll do.

He glosses over some of the next Kaiju, and stops at the first mention of a Jaeger, hastily cobbled together in five months, the world pooling resources and forgetting old hatred, although some landlocked European countries complain a little.

It's strange, looking at photos of the initial Jaeger, the very first one, rough and ugly, squat and bulky. But it does its job, and the next article shows a picture of a Jaeger standing triumphantly over a Kaiju corpse. Stiles, naturally, has a high quality close up of the corpse, so clear that he can clearly see each individual scale. He's about to brush his fingers over it when he catches himself, and instead makes his way over to his room to first get changed and then go suit up.

* * *

Kira joins him, and then looks enviously at Jackson's leather jacket, with Coyote Storm emblazoned on the back in loud lettering.

"I wanted a flight jacket," she complains. "Derek has tons, but he never shares with me."

As they sit outside the Jaeger, waiting once again, she plays with her tablet, doodling swirls and spirals.

"You like that a lot," Scott comments.

"Yeah," she grins. "Look, it takes pictures!" She quickly snaps a picture, and then shows it to him. He smiles at her, and in an unspoken agreement, they spend a good hour taking selfies, until they hear a commotion.

"Marshal Hale told you to suit up," Danny tells Jackson, who's just burst through the bay doors once again, still wearing his flight jacket. Malia accompanies him, her leg set and in a brace.

"I don't have a co-pilot," Jackson argues. "Malia's broken her leg so I don't have anyone. Why should I suit up? Who's going to be my-"

"Shut up!" Kira marches up to him. "Suit up, or I'll be breaking your arm all over again."

"I don't have a co pilot," he flushes bright red with anger and embarrassment, and then pushes her away. Scott's seized by a sudden, visceral urge to rip his face off. "Besides, that was a totally unfair fight-"

"I've managed to land more that thirty punches on one side of your jaw alone," Kira reminds him. "In the past two months."

"I always let you win! Besides, I still don't have a-"

"You'll be co-piloting with me, Whittemore," a woman approaches them with brisk strides like knife cuts, looking exactly like Derek, if Derek were female with pouty lips and had an unquestionable air of authority. _Cora_. "Quit your yapping and suit up."

"How do I know if we're compatible?" He demands.

"Trust me," she says, voice steely. "We're compatible. Dr Martin, Miss Yukimura and I ran the tests. Unless you'd rather go to a training room and get your ass handed to you?"

Jackson glares at her, and then finally looks away, to Malia.

“I’m not apologising,” she folds her arms, biting back an apology. “I still think I’m right.”

“Fine, then,” Jackson mimics her pose, leans back. His guilt is written clearly across his face. “Neither am I.”

Allison pushes between the two of them impatiently, her face tearstained.

"Isaac's still in the hospital," she explains, and then runs, still woozy, to embrace her parents as they walk in too, stoic and silent.

"You ready?" Scott asks, as Danny gives the signal. She nods, and they step inside together.

* * *

Hunter gets taken down almost immediately, as if the Kaiju can sense that they have the biggest payload, the most experienced pilots, crushed into two by Raiju and Scunner and the warhead is tossed somewhere carelessly, like litter. Derek orders them to walk on. Allison says nothing, only breathes in deeply and shakily, and continues instructing them.

" _3_ o'clock," she snaps. " _Three_. Can you not tell the time, Whittemore?"

Then, there's a groan of metal as Scunner tears right through Alpha, ripping their left thigh with vicious teeth, shredding with sharp claws. They blast the cannons at the same time, blasting off part of its flank, but the mechs on their left leg have been completely taken out, and Kira's yelping quietly in pain. Then Raiju calls out, the screech so piercing that the sea trembles around them, and Scunner swims off, and Slattern is still somewhere, swimming off scary fast, because of course it's a fucking Category _Five_. And then Coyote is surrounded, and everything is going wrong and Scott can't see can't move can't think and in the silence-

"You need Kaiju DNA!" Lydia screams, her voice coming from nowhere. "You need Kaiju DNA to get through the Breach!"

So the plan was always doomed.

"Oh God," Cora says. "Derek. I'm so sorry."

“Malia, I-” Jackson starts to say, before a button’s pressed and he’s drowned out by beeping.

Kira understands long before Scott does, and stabs their sword into the ground, metal complaining. Coyote Storm goes up in a blast of fire like a collapsing star, brighter than the noon day sun, and all Scott can hear as blistering heat engulfs them is Malia's heartbroken screaming.

He shuts his eyes hard and blinks to get rid of the white spots dancing across his vision, and then they wait for the recoil. They get up, limping, their ruined leg dragging behind them like some twisted suitcase, and they're using the sword as a cane- it's ridiculous, and Scott would have laughed if the fate of world weren't resting on their shoulders right now, because they’re riding on top of a huge nuclear bomb and one way or another, they’re finishing this. 

Scunner's down, and then Raiju's swimming towards them, but their sword slices it in two so easily, like a knife through butter, but of course Slattern's guarding the Breach, but Kira flips on their back rockets and they slam into the Breach together-

It's quiet and loud and blue and red, and they're really there, really, truly, and Scott is filled with a horrible sense of certainty, and now he knows.

"I have to. For Derek. He can't lose you. I can, I need to do this alone," he says, wishing he were better at these big heroic speeches, and then looks over at her. He's moving, why's he moving?

"I'm sorry," she smiles through a tear streaked face, and that's when he realises, that she's already initiated the ejection protocol as he was speaking, clicked her oxygen supply into his. Her fingers dance over the screen uncertainly, and then turn into an awkward wave.

"Wait! Stop!" Scott cries as he leaves the pod, Kira still smiling after him.

After that, it's all darkness and fast movement as he jets towards the light, the dark blue quickly diluting itself, until he feels himself be jettisoned out of the water with a violent 'pop'. He bobs ridiculously on the surface as he fumbles with the catches, then slides the door open, gasps for air, the sweet cool taste of oxygen filling his burning lungs, slipping down like ice cream.

"Scott," the earpiece crackles. "It's Derek. We're sending a chopper to pick you up." And then there's silence.

"Kira?" He demands, hysteria edging his voice. "Are there any vitals?" And then, and then there's even more silence, terrible silence, pregnant with grief and pain. And it isn't, can't be fair to him or Derek or Kira, he can't be the only one to survive, Derek can't be alone, Kira can't be _dead_.

"McCall?" Malia says, and her voice is hard with anger and calcified sobs. "You have to go. The chopper is above you. You have to go."

"No!" He scream desperately, against the roaring of the blades. "No! You have to wait, you have to wait! Kira!" _Kira Kira Kira Kira_ , his heart thumps.

“I don’t want to sedate you,” another person says. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

And then an evac pod breaks the surface, and he's already dived into the water, slicing through the sea, praying with all his soul that it's her, not just a hallucination, that he's not just a crazed man swimming for an imagined anchor. He hauls himself up onto it, and then shoves the door open, and through the static, he can hear Derek gasping "Kira? Kira?" so it has to be real it has to be real be real be real real _real real real_

And it is Kira, but her skin is cold and clammy and pale, and she's not breathing. Scott knows though, he took First Aid, back when he wanted to be a vet, back when the world made sense, so he checks for a pulse , clears her airways, and then starts chest compressions, one two three, before she finally comes to life with a hacking cough and wild desperate gasps, bright breathless brilliant-

"Scott?" And her voice is alarmingly fleeting, but it's there! He lets out a sob of relief, and then kisses her gently on the lips. Soft and achingly sweet, pouring everything that they can’t say into it.

And then they break apart, because yes, _yes_ , they're alive. And for now, that's enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Easy Now" by Sir Sly

**Author's Note:**

> Story title from "COPS Came" by Em Harriss  
> Chapter title from "Gold" by Sir Sly


End file.
